


Home is wherever I'm with you

by gottabelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Funny, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Marriage, Other, Sweet Home Alabama AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:51:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottabelarry/pseuds/gottabelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>After moving to the States, and becoming  <i>quite</i>  the 'city slicker', Louis Tomlinson, is ready to marry 'the girl of his dreams'...</b>
  <br/>
  <b>
    <br/>
    <i>There's just one tiny little problem.</i>
    <br/>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><i>Technically,</i> he's still married to his, flirty and charming, very male, ex-best friend, Harry Styles.</p><p><b>Now, after four years, he's leaving everything behind in America and heading back to his small hometown to confront the demons of his past.</b><br/>But will Harry be able to charm his way back into Louis’ heart?</p><p><i>Louis</i> wants a <b>divorce</b>.</p><p>But <i>Harry</i> wants a <b>second chance</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is wherever I'm with you

**Author's Note:**

> Hii, so I haven't written a chaptered story in ages and I'm kind of nervous to post this because I always get side tracked and when I DO write something I'm always really self-conscious about it. But I kind of have this problem where I have like a favourite movie and then I kind of want to ready a Larry version of it because Larry is just dhslabclabcjpcankdjnoahcp ya know? Writing this story might hopefully get it out of my system haha :)
> 
>    
>  **This story is inspired/based off the movie Sweet Home Alabama, it won't be exactly the same as the movie but it has a similar feel if that makes sense Idek sorry I'm awkward lol**
> 
>  
> 
> **If there are any grammar or spelling errors I'm really sorry, I'm just waiting for my amazing Beta A.J to get back to me but I was really excited to post the first chapter because it's taken me about 3 weeks to get it together (side-tracked mind holla)**
> 
>  
> 
> **ok I'm gonna go lol :) oh and you can follow me on tumblr if you want http://itsalarrything.tumblr.com/**
> 
>  
> 
> **I hope you guys like it :) xx**

_“I’m gonna marry Miss Kate when I’m older.” Louis, the boisterous nine year proclaims proudly. His best friend squeaks next to him and huffs in protest as he rolls his vibrant green eyes at the older boy._

_“You can’t marry a teacher Lou, that’s illegal!” ___

  


_Louis glances at the seven year old curled up at his side, the younger boys’ ridiculous brown curls falling across his eyes. It’s just the two of them laying out in Harry’s back yard beneath the cool shade of the swaying tree above them, sprawled out next to each other in the warm grass and breathing in the summer air._  
 _Louis lay beside the curly haired seven year old in the grass, staring up at the swaying tree above them that offered shade from the warm sun._  
 _Harry watches the older boys movement from his place against Louis’ chest, taking in his friends big, bright blue eyes and feathery brown hair, along with a light cluster of freckles on his nose - the aftermath of not using sunscreen over the summer like his mother had told him._  
 _Louis was older out of the two of them, by two years to be precise, and he doesn’t hesitate to remind Harry of that constantly, just to tease the younger boy.  
Louis huffs a giggle and the movement jostles the younger boy’s head that’s resting against his chest. ___

  


_It should seem weird - that their this cuddly, but it’s always been that way really, just the two of them _LouisandHarry __and nobody really thinks to question it anymore, already accustomed to the two boys being attached at the hip.__  
 _“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” He teases back, earning a pinch to his side from Harry’s chubby fingers.___

_The older boy jumps and ruffles the younger boy’s hair in return, earning a light giggle._

  


_“Because she’ll make you Class Captain all the time and give you all A’s – it won’t be fair,” Harry states matter-factly, sounding wiser than his seven years, and Louis shakes with laughter, jostling his dosing friend once again._  
 _“I suppose I’d marry you, Harry,” Louis counters back, laughing as his friend wheezes out a confused “Me?!”_  
 _Louis shrugs, ruffling the younger boys soft curls despite his sleepy protest, “Well yeah, cause’ it rhymes. And because you’re my best friend.”_

_And Louis’ only nine and doesn’t really know what it means to be married, but Harry’s answering smile is as bright as the sun shining above them, and well, if he can make Harry smile like that then he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life doing so. ___

**11 years later ******

 

  


"I vow to Love, honour and respect you. I promise to be your source of strength and comfort. I vow to always be there with you; to laugh with, to cry with, and to love with. I vow to try and remember to leave the toilet seat down. And I vow to tell you every single day, why I love you..." The handsome, curly haired, eighteen year old vowed. His blue-green ocean like eyes shined as he gazed down into his best friend’s eyes, causing Louis’ heart to slow down and speed up in a rhythmic thundering in his chest all at once, and he was sure it wasn’t from the alcohol they’d just consumed.  
There was a quiet pause, giving the twenty year old a second to gather his thoughts and suck in a deep breath. His head was spinning from the giddiness and adrenaline pumping through his veins.  
"I vow to love you for who you are, till I take my very last breath. I promise to try and learn how to cook a decent meal. I vow to never give up on us, and I promise to always be there by your side, as your husband, and your best friend. ”

 

***********  


"Will you marry me?" A puff of warm air escapes his lips as he gazes nervously up at the brunette standing beside him in the cold New York air. The few street lights lining the park’s path and the twinkling stars above the couple the only source of light on the late January night. His girlfriend’s large brown eyes widen and her glove covered hands fly up to cover her mouth in subtle shock  
Louis was sure he was about to pass out from holding his breath, and he almost lets out a sigh of relief as his girlfriend of four years squeaks out a, "Yes, a thousand times yes!"  
A wide grin spreads across his features, his bright blue eyes lighting up as he gingerly picks up the large and dazzling diamond ring from the red velvet box clasped between his cold and nimble fingers, allowing Eleanor time to pull off her left woollen glove in excitement.

He slips the gold band onto her ring finger, his mind flickering to something deep inside his soul; something he forced himself to forget a long time ago – a memory of light laughter, warm kisses and soft curls. And it’s that memory that snaps him back into reality, like a shard of glass slicing his heart.  
He tries to smile while his girlfriend blabbers on about how beautiful the ring is, and how ‘it must have cost a fortune Lou.’ It’s then that Louis allows himself to wonder what would have come of his life if things hadn’t panned out the way they had. If the brown eyes he was now staring into had always been the colour that was memorised in the back of his head; a greeny-blue, like the ocean.  
He doesn’t allow the thought to stay long though; instead they turn to ice and melt into that cold little broken piece of his heart where he refuses to go.  
Shaking his head he looks up and realises he’s been bent on his knee for too long, lost in his thoughts. 

Eleanor looks like she’s just been handed the moon and the stars and Louis decides he can’t tell her – can’t tell her the truth about his past, can’t tell her about Harry, and why he hasn’t gone home in the four years he’s been here. He couldn’t do that to her, which is why he tells himself that he will get a signature on those damn divorce papers from his past so that him and Eleanor can start their future. He promises himself he’ll handle it all in the morning and Louis only hopes that Harry will comply easily and not be like the naive and stubborn young teenager he remembers.

 

 ***********

"You keep sending them back!" Louis fumes into his mobile phone the next morning as he paces back and forward in his and Eleanor’s spacious apartment. He comes to a halt in front of the large window overlooking the sights of New York City as the phone’s bad service crackles against his ear. That or Harry is still using his ancient Nokia from all those years ago – which wouldn’t surprise Louis.

"That's because I don't want to sign them, did it ever cross your mind that maybe I don't want a divorce?" the deep and husky voice argues back. The frown upon Louis soft features deepens as he grunts in protest, easily imagining his soon-to-be ex husband pacing back and forth in their old apartment, running his long fingers through his dark mop of curls.  
The image fades as Louis blood begins to boil. He grits his teeth, Stupid Harry and his stubborn ass.

It shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does, after three and a half years of sending the divorce paperwork and getting no signature on the dotted lines in return, Harry still refuses to even acknowledge Louis’ request.  
"Harry Edward Styles, if you don't sign them, then I'm hoping on the next plane out of here and I'll make sure you sign those dam-" he threatens through gritted teeth, his bright blue eyes squinting as he glares at nothing in particular.

"Sounds good, See you soon Sweet cheeks!" is Harry’s quick response, and he’s teasing – but Louis doesn’t have time for his teasing anymore, he doesn’t have time for anything to do with Harry anymore.

And just like before, Louis can easily picture the familiar cheeky smile on the young twenty-two year olds face, those stupid dimples no doubt appearing on his cheeks, and his blue-green eyes glinting as his gravelly voice turns sweet as honey and all cheery.  
"But-" Louis goes to protest in frustration. 

"I have to go," Harry murmurs lowly through the phone, his voice still carrying with it a hint of cheek.  
It’s than that Louis begins to wonder if all of this reluctance to signing the divorce papers is Harry’s way of torturing Louis to get back at him for leaving him all those years ago with no explanation.

"Harry, don't you dare hang up on me!" Louis all but growls into his phone, his teeth gritting almost painfully as he hears Harry chuckle cheekily through the phone.  
"Love you too Boo-bear, I'll see you soon Mr Styles!" And with that the line goes dead, ending the discussion and leaving Louis fuming in his quiet apartment with the end-of call beeping tone ringing through his ears.  
Louis slams his phone down on the bench and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, because he hadn’t planned to go home any time soon – not ready to face his family, or his Step-dad, or Harry.

 

Louis curses the day he ever considered marrying Harry Styles.

  


***********

"Why are you going home? I thought we could spend the summer together before you have to go back to work..." Eleanor sulks against their large bedrooms doorframe, her brown eyes following Louis movements as he leaves his old suitcase onto their large king-sized bed. Louis sighs and glances at her, not able to meet her eyes.  
“My gran’s sick El, I told you that babe; my family needs me right now,” he motions his arms around uselessly.  
“But I’m your family now too,” She murmurs, and Louis gives up trying to open the old, stubborn zip on his suitcase and turns to his fiancée, before pulling her slim figure into his arms.

“Soon Babe, and I’ll be home soon too,” he promises.  
Eleanor whines as she leans into his embrace, “I could come with you! That way I can meet your family at the same time, Lou.”  
“No! – uh I mean, No,” Louis clears his throat awkwardly, hoping that she wouldn’t read into too much, “Maybe next time, like my family needs to focus on Gran at the moment, so maybe it would be better to meet them when things aren’t so crazy, ya know?” He swallows nervously, afraid the brunette will see right through him. He was never very good at lying.

  


A pout forms upon his fiancées face and Louis quickly places a kiss to her cheek before hurriedly turning to force the zipper of his suitcase open.  
He hears a sigh from behind him as he places some of his clothes into his suitcase before he hears Eleanor pad across the carpeted floor. She sits down on their plush bed beside his open suitcase and watches him pack sulkily.  
“You’re probably right, but come home soon, and don’t get into any trouble!”

“I Promise.”

 

It’s only a few days later that Louis finds himself sitting first class on a one-way flight to London that he starts to panic. He feels the four years of not going home to see his family sit guilty in the pit of his stomach, along with the feeling of watching the four years of lies he’d told to cover up the demons of his past unravelling before his very eyes.  
He was going Home; to the place where his family and his childhood were.

  


***********

 

Louis groans in disgust as he steps out of the rental Mercedes he had driven from the airport, and his dark new shoes sank straight into a lovely mud hole – a reminder of the lovely Holmes Chapel weather.  
He runs his hands through his short brown wispy hair, and glances around at the old and dreary surroundings of his old lifestyle. Had home always been this wet? And quiet?  
It was a bit of an eye opener, being accustomed to the lights, sunshine, fancy buildings and expensive cars of New York City – and now he was back to his roots, in the little old village of Holmes Chapel. It was a bit of contrast to say the least. Sure he’d expected it to be...different, he had been gone for four years, what with his lifestyle change from now living in the hustle and bustle of New York– but he couldn’t remember it being this bad.  
Everything from the old houses to the beat-up second-hand cars parked on the side of the old paved road made him feel completely out of place with his styled jeans, expensive shoes and now deflated quiffed hair – thanks to his long flight.  
He felt like a total stranger in the very village he’d grown up in, and that in itself was rather alarming to the young man, but he would acknowledge that to no one. He didn’t belong here anymore, this was no longer his home; this village was no longer his home.  
Louis ran his slim fingers down the front of his dark slim fit jeans, paired with one of his favourite button up shirts, rolled up at the sleeves. Classy yet simple.  
Back home, well where he now calls home; this was what he would normally wear around the city. But here, within only being here for a few minutes that is, he already felt overdressed and out of place.  


This is going to be an interesting trip, He mused to himself, also noting that his suitcase was filled with similar attire. Crap. And it was cold, he couldn’t recall packing more than one jumper, which –okay, probably wasn’t very smart on his part, but he’d had other things on his mind. He could already feel the temperature dropping, and it was only four o’clock in the afternoon. Crap-ity-Crap.  
He slammed the Mercedes driver door shut behind him, annoyance slowly turning into anger. Anger because his new, not cheap shoes were now soaked in mud, and annoyed at Harry – as per usual – because this was all his fault.

 

Louis turned from his view of the dull street with a sigh, taking in the old two story house behind him, and his stomach began to form knots, because this was the home he’d grown up in. This was his old home. It hadn’t always been, they’d moved here from Doncaster when he was four but in his young eyes this had been home. His bubbling anger began to melt away into a dull ache.  
The old muddy-red brick house still stood tall, with a small front yard, hosting beds of not quite growing flowers and small ferns– his mother never really got the hang of gardening. Old bikes lay out on the small grassy front lawn, and Louis could see a number of shoes scattered on the front porch, little shoes that belonged to his younger sisters. He could almost hear the laughter of his childhood ringing in his ears, along with the memories that this old house held. Guilt pumped through the Doncaster lad’s veins, an uneasiness filling his stomach as he let out a shaky sigh, dropping his satchel to the cold and muddy pavement beneath him.  
He stared at the old oak tree standing tall in the front yard, the fall leaves swaying in the cool breeze; the same tree he’d climbed numerous times in his younger days, and no doubt still had some carvings in the old wood from the past that his parents probably – hopefully – still hadn’t noticed. To his surprise the old tire swing still hung from the thickest branch, the rope frayed, looking old and worn. He suppressed a small smile as he watched it swing slightly in the breeze, but was quickly snapped from his daze as the front door shot open, startling him from his place in the driveway.

It was his mum.

Joanna Tomlinson stood on the front porch of the two story house, her wide eyed gaze meeting his as her petite figure stood completely still as if she were in shock. Louis could see from the driveway her pale complexion and the bags beneath her eyes, the result of lack of sleep and exhaustion. She still has that same warm and happy glow surrounding her despite the hardships she’d gone through over the years and evident stress and exhaustion upon her heart shaped face, and Louis is temporarily awestruck by her. She’s still as beautiful has he had remembered, and he can see the tears begin to slip down her pale cheeks as she covers a slim hand over her mouth.  
Its then that Louis realises he’s been holding his breath, and as he feels his throat grow tight and his eyes begin to sting he allows himself feel the ache that hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long; the feeling of family. All of a sudden he just wants to run up to the older woman and wrap her in his arms and allow himself to feel the warmth of his mothers hugs that hadn’t even realised he’d missed and never let go. But guilt holds him back.  


His mother was a kind soul, her personality always radiating love and comfort, yet Louis was afraid.  
How could he expect his mum to just let him waltz right back into their lives after he had left them all those years ago without so much as an explanation? He could recall a phone call here and there, just to assure her he was in fact still alive, but here he was; standing on his mothers driveway in the cold wind four years later because, knowing without a doubt he had no place in this family anymore because he was a coward.  
He almost wanted to just turn around, jump into his car and leave because he couldn’t stand the thought of his own mother rejecting him. He couldn’t blame her if she did, she had needed someone, anyone, to be there to help her get back up on her feet after his parents nasty divorce but what did he do? He had ran, ran from them, ran from Harry - because he was a coward.

 

To his surprise, and utter relief, the short woman let out a cry of his name and ran down the porch steps, her long dark hair flying over her shoulder as she barrelled towards him, her wide blue eyes shining over with tears as Louis took in a shaking breath and let her fall into his arms. He could feel dampness on his cheeks from his own tears, not noticing them until now. The comforting scent and warmth was all it took for Louis to crumble.  
“Mum,” he whispered damply, his arms tightened around his mothers shaking frame.

“Louis, I’m so glad your home,” was Jay’s whispering reply, her tone watery and breathless. He hadn’t hugged her in so long he didn’t want to let go, the warmth and comfort that he’d missed, and the sound of her voice was what brought back the guilt in his stomach. He felt as though he were drowning, the sweet warmth of his loving mother pulling him back up to surface, “I’ve missed you so much Lou.”  
“I missed you too, Mum,” He murmured back into her soft hair, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. The young twenty-four year old hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her hugs, they had the ability to give comfort and strength in times when you didn’t even know you needed it.

They could have stood out in the cool afternoon air for hours, it felt like forever and Louis wasn’t at all ready to pull away from the embrace – to busy wanting to make the most of his short visit, short visit, he inwardly gulped because just looking into his mothers large blue eyes and seeing the happiness, the relief, and the excitement of seeing her only son, he could tell that leaving this time around was going to be a thousand times harder than last. But she didn’t need to know, for now. He’d just come up with some lie like he had been doing for the last few years, ‘I can’t come home Mum, I’m really sorry but classes start up soon’, ‘I won’t be able to make it down for Christmas Mum, they need me at work over the holidays’, They were only little lies to him, but he knew without a doubt that it was wrong, and the uneasiness he felt every time he’d tell his mum some lame excuse why he couldn’t come home never got easier. He never wanted to lie to his Mother, but lying was easier then telling the truth. Lying made up for the mistakes he made, because if he lied enough to cover up the past then eventually it would just fade away into nothing but faceless memories of the past.  


Eventually Jay pulled away gently, taking time to allow her eyes to take in the appearance of her son. He’d lost a lot of weight since she’d last seen him, not enough to be sickly thin, but enough to be noticeable – but she could fix that, a few home-made cakes and some of her delicious roast dinners would aid her in that, she told herself.  
“Honey, you look...Amazing Louis,” She smiled joyfully at him, relief still evident in her eyes. She keeps a hand on his arm as if she were grounding him, afraid he’d disappear again before her very eyes. “You’ve grown up so much,” She croaked watery, her gaze following the light dusting of stubble on his chin, and his longer, now very messy (thanks to his long flight and lack of showering in the last day) mop of hair.

A little hesitant smile forms upon Louis’ lips and he pulls her into another tight hug, “It’s good to see you, Mum,”

 

They pull apart a few minutes later, both still very much unwilling to let go of each other, and that’s when Louis first sees him; this tall lean figure standing a few metres behind his mother; his large hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his tight black jeans, and his bright green eyes watching carefully from a distance, his gaze not quite meeting Louis’.  
His curls were a mess – pushed back into a gray beanie, and Louis refuses to acknowledge how his mouth goes dry when his eyes take in the white v-neck clinging to Harry’s toned chest and the blue flannel thrown over the top with the sleeves rolled up; the tattoo covered milky skin of his defined collarbones peeking out. Were those swallows?

Louis finally allows his eyes to trail back up the length of Harry’s long body to his face, taking in his still pouty lips and his bright wide eyes, and that’s when his eyes meet Harry’s for the first time in four years.  
And wow.  
The world seems to stop spinning for what feels like an eternity and Louis feels the air get knocked out of him as Harry stares right back at him, leaving Louis feeling agitated with the way the younger boy’s practically peering right into his soul.  
But long gone are the days where they could communicate in such an intimate way, their eyes sharing their every thought and feeling. Louis blinks and Harry’s eyes seem to change from a green to an almost gray shade of blue; and he quickly averts his gaze as a small frown forms upon his forehead. 

Louis clears his throat and turns back to his mother who is looking at the two of them expectantly, excitement evident in her eyes and she smiles brightly and pats Louis’ arm affectionately, completely unaware of the change in their friendship and the looming tension between the two.  
“I’ll let you two catch up.”  
He doesn’t get a chance to stop her, before she’s floating back into the large house, a bubble of happiness and excitement surrounding her – and guilt runs through the stunned twenty-four year olds veins.

It’s silent once again, and Louis kind of wishes he could get this whole thing over with because he’s kind of freezing out in the cold, but he’s not sure if he can face going inside knowing he’s not going to stay. He sighs and pushes his feathery fringe out of his eyes.

“It’s uh – good to see you again, Lou.” Harry’s slow and gravelly voice breaks the silent tension, and Louis glances up to find Harry offering his familiar grin, though the gesture doesn’t quite reach his bright green eyes.  
The Doncaster-born lad wants to glare at him and fire back a ‘Don’t call me that!’ but he is struck speechless, unable to form anything coherent.  
Harry notices and takes a tentative step towards him, and Louis crosses his arms tightly across himself as he nods his head curtly in response, pursing his lips together.

Harry clears his throat as he takes another hesitant step towards Louis, his bright green eyes looking him up and down not-so-subtly once again. “You look...” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down his body just as his mother had, taking in the designer brand clothes clinging to his slim body, “Different.”  
Louis’ fist clench against his chest, and he’s irritated – irritated because no he is not different, Harry’s the one who changed, what with his new found muscles and tattoos and height, Irritated because this was the last place he wanted to be; talking to Harry as if everything is okay when it’s not, pretending to his mum that everything is fine when it’s not. Louis is just irritated with everything, and Harry always seems to be at the top of his lists.

Nodding curtly once again, Louis glares at him as he stares right back at the younger man, “So do you.”  
A lopsided grin forms on Harry’s lips and his eyes light up, “He speaks!”  
Louis should know that Harry’s only pulling his leg, only teasing, but instead Louis’ blood begins to boil and his expression darkens into a scowl as Harry steps closer, leaving a mere metre between them.  
“Did you miss me?” Harry continues cheekily, slouching casually in front of Louis, earning an icy glare and a shake of the head which seems to fuel the younger boys teasing. “Not even a tiny bit?”  
“Nope,” Louis’ smirk almost drops from his face as the stunned expression upon Harry’s face changes to one that could resemble a kicked-puppy. He forces himself not to feel guilty for the way Harry flinches slightly as he adds a, “Not at all.” Harry’s almost twenty-two now, he reminds himself; he needs to grow up. 

Harry’s gaze moves from the pavement beneath his old white converse to Louis, staring right back at him, as he tries a small almost apologetic smile and quietly murmurs a, “It’s good to have you home, Babe.”  
The older of the two rolls his eyes, gaining an ounce of courage as he yanks out the crumpled divorce papers from his carry on laying at his feet, “Yeah well not for long babe, because as soon as I get your stubborn ass to sign these papers, I’m hopping on the first plane out of here!”

The younger boys smile falls, and his mouth fall’s agape.  
Louis takes a step towards him, closing the gap between the two former best friends and shoves the papers against his muscley chest, freezing for only a second to realise he actually has to look up at Harry now – and when did that even happen?!  
Harry shakes his head, his dark curls falling across his forehead as he glances down and plucks the paperwork from Louis’ hands. Their fingers brush briefly, and the older boy jolts back, his stomach swooping in his gut, and folds his arms over his chest once again, more for his own defence then threat. Harry seems unfazed by the simplest of touch, but Louis forces himself not to focus on the tingling in his fingers.  
The younger boys green eyes scan briefly over the first paragraph, and Louis watches as he slowly starts to chuckle before he folds up the paper messily and forces it back into Louis’ hands.

“I’m not signing it, Lou.”

And there’s that stubborn teenager Louis remembers.  
A smile forms upon Harry’s lips, almost like a challenge, and Louis hates him. He really, really genuinely hates him. Because this isn’t some game to him anymore, this is Louis’ future and life.

“The jokes over Harry, you are signing these papers whether you like it or not!” Louis fumes, because he’s had enough of this, had enough of Harry and his stupid childish games – Louis wants to move on with his life, not be tied to some stupid mistake he made in his past. The thought makes him feel guilty, but he’s not backing down now, not willing to let Harry win this time.  
The younger boy straightens up, his laughter coming to an end and an uncharacteristic glare forms upon his face.  
“Look!” Louis says with a defeated sigh, “It even has idiot proof tabs to make it easier for you”, he says while pointing to the bright yellow tabs attached to the sheet indicating where Harry was to sign.

There’s a deep silence between the two, not even the sound of the few passing cars breaking the growing tension. The sky seems to grow darker by the minute, the promise of a large storm forming – great, Louis thinks, something to match his slowly forming anger.

He pulls out a pen from his backpack, all too keen on getting this show on the road so he can get this whole thing over with, before he takes a step towards Harry.  
“Harry, _please_ , I-“

 

Harry’s voice is surprisingly deep and stern for an eighteen year old, yet calming as if he were talking to a child, “I’m not signing them, Lou. And how do you think your Mum would feel if you got up and left within minutes of being here? You saw how happy she was to see you.”

 

Louis scowls up at him, “Don’t you dare pull the guilt card on me Harry Styles, I don’t belong here anymore-“

“You don’t belong? Or you don’t want to belong?” The younger boy challenges, his green eyes growing dark and accusing.

The elder boy wants to argue back, but finds himself unable to find the words to speak what he had in mind.

Harry doesn’t seem bothered by Louis’ silence, and he silently walks straight past the smaller boy to the boot of the rented Mercedes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the older boy demands, as Harry opens the boot and pulls out Louis’ large suitcase.

_“Harry!”_  


He closes the boot, continuing to ignore the older boy, as he returns with the suitcases in his large hand, “Why are you doing this?” Louis demands angrily as he unwillingly trails behind the curly haired boy towards the front door.  
“I’m trying to be nice!” He shoots back.

“Oh Yeah?” is Louis’ –admittedly not great – retort, halting and putting his small hands on his hips, and Harry halts, glancing at him with an unreadable expression upon his face, “Well I’m trying to get a divorce.”

 

Harry rolls his vibrant green eyes.

“Harry, please sign these papers so I can go home?” He pleads.

 

The younger boy scoffs, dropping the suitcases to the ground with a –not so manly- shriek from Louis – because there could have been breakables in there, idiot! 

“Home?"

Harry all but scowls at the word, “Please,” He challenges, “What would you know about ‘Home’? The only home you ever had was here and you left it – without so much as a note-, because you’re an uptight, self-centred _prick_.”

Louis closes his eyes in defeat, and rubs his temples trying to calm his temper. The last thing they needed was for his Mum and the rest of his family to come out and find the two supposedly still happiest of friends arguing over a divorce. 

“Why are doing this to me?” Louis says in defeat, his voice a mere plead now.

Blinking his eyes open, he finds Harry staring at the ground, a small frown upon his forehead and resembling the look of a kicked puppy, Louis sighs and continues lowly, the venom almost completely gone from his tone, “If this is some game your playing to get back at me for leaving when we were teenagers, than just know it’s stupid and childish.”

The younger boy raises his gaze from the ground, his eyes full of hurt and a sad almost smile upon his pouty lips, “You of all people should know that’s not true, Lou.”

Louis swallows thickly, averting his gaze, and instead staring intently at the papers in his now slightly trembling hands.

“Then sign them, please?” He pleads quietly once again, pushing the papers towards the younger boy slowly, but Harry takes a step back, shaking his head.  
“I’m not signing them Lou, not until you have your head screwed on properly.”

Louis frowns, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting the younger boys gaze, “And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” He asks, exasperated.

His green eyes meet Louis’, a dimple forming on his cheek and his smiles a small genuine smile – the cheeky Harry Louis remembers.  
“It means that you need to take a taste of reality and find yourself again. Because the boy that’s standing in front of me right now, is not the Louis I know. But he’s in there still; I know he’s still in there. And until you find him and realise what is really important in your life, I am not signing those papers.”  
“Har-“

“Can we please not argue about this? Please just give it a chance,” Harry pleads quietly, a tone of helplessness in his voice.  
The younger boy silently picks up the suitcase again and turns to head towards the front door, pausing for a brief moment to glance back at the older boy, their eyes meeting.  


  


It feels like he’s staring right into Louis soul, peering right into every little piece of his heart and Louis swears he sees a glimpse of the young eighteen year old he married in the younger boy’s wide, pleading green eyes, _Please just give me a chance, Lou_.

**Author's Note:**

> **I hope you guys liked the first chapter :) Feedback would be awesome xxx**


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